


Listen To The Melody Because My Love Is Hiding In There

by fourdrunksluts



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Christmas, Christmas Party, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdrunksluts/pseuds/fourdrunksluts
Summary: Until it comes to Luke, everybody has a positive response, but when he pulls the tiny paper from the jar, only to reveal the name ‘Ashton Irwin’ he can’t help but curse, full of anxiety and disappointment at the universe.His reaction sparks curiosity from the bunch, so he saves the day, rushing to explain, “I have too many ideas for a gift, and I don't know which way to go.”It works, everybody laughing along, but Luke doesn’t care for the smirk he sees on Michael’s face.-As his office gets ready to do their annual Secret Santa drawing, all Luke can hope is that he wont pull his long-time crush Ashton’s name from the bowl. His mischievous assistant, Michael, has something to say about that.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36
Collections: 5 Seconds of Ficmas





	Listen To The Melody Because My Love Is Hiding In There

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _A Song For You_ by Amy Winehouse

“First order of business.” 

It's Friday morning, Luke's coffee is turning cold, and Calum, the office administrator, is taking up far too much time already. This is supposed to be a brief overview of the upcoming holiday celebrations, but instead of it being taken care of in the bullpen, they've all been gathered in the conference room. The wall behind Calum is decorated in photographs from the previous years Secret Santa pull, but amongst them is a picture of Michael, Luke's assistant, twice as large as the ones around it. There's a red circle drawn around his head with a thick line through it. This is looking like it's going to be  _ much _ more than a quick brief. 

"Under no circumstances," Calum continues, his voice harsh and demanding, a stark contrast to the round cheeks and long eyelashes that suggest he's much softer, "can anyone call out Monday. That’s when we’re pulling names." 

“And why isn’t Michael allowed?” Nia asks from the back of the room. She’s their Human Resources representative, but Luke has a feeling this isn’t related to any HR issues and is rather a personal interest. 

Next to Luke, Michael laughs. He looks all too excited about being a crossed-out example.”Yeah, is that no Michael allowed in the game or no Michael in general?”

“Michael isn’t to be trusted,” Calum answers, and the office  _ Oohs _ at the twist of an answer. Luke can’t hold his laugh in and lets it reverberate in the packed room. “Don’t tell him who you’ve pulled,” he continues. “Technically, don’t tell anybody, but  _ especially  _ Michael.”

The answer doesn’t spark a riot like most accusations at Michael would. Instead, he just grins, self-satisfied at the very accurate warning. Last year it got out that Hilary pulled Casey’s name from the Santa Hat, and though - in the long run - nothing extreme occurred other than Hilary being slightly sad for just a moment, Calum spent the entire Christmas party locked in the handicap stall, crying over how Michael Clifford ruined the holiday and subsequently ruined his life. 

It’s remembered as a dark time in the office and resulted in eight months of Luke giving motivational speeches just to get Calum to agree to Secret Santa again, and Luke’s more than glad that he was able to pull it off, especially now that he can see the joy in everybody's excitement at the prospect of all this Christmas magic. One of their company’s branches closed down earlier this year, meaning they have an onslaught of new employees that’ve been transferred to the office, and this is the first big party they’ve had since then, meaning this is the first time any of the new faces have seen just how much of a family they see themselves as. It makes everything worth it. 

Though if Luke’s being  _ completely  _ honest, it was mostly worth it just to see the joy in  _ Ashton’s _ excitement. 

Ashton Irwin, the company’s customer service representative, Ashton Irwin, an employee in the Farmington branch for the past two months. Ashton Irwin, who Luke’s been staring at for the last ten minutes of the meeting. He’s wonderful and always happy. Even when the days are bad, and he has to put up with the brutal complaints, he finds a way to have a positive attitude. Luke’s been half in love with him since the moment he met his beautiful eyes, across the office, on the day of the branch merger. It’s been a steady decline into insanity and emotions since then. 

“There’s not going to be an actual party until we unwrap gifts,” Calum continues his announcement as Luke refuses to pull his attention away from the six-foot, hazel-eyed dreamboat in his three-quarter sleeve shirt and striped tie. “But I  _ am  _ bringing cookies in for the pulling. Does anybody have any allergies?” 

Nia answers for the office, beginning to list off all known allergies and sensitivities the staff members have listed in their files, but Luke tunes it out, eyes focused on where Ashton’s giggling with Matt, his deskmate. Luke’s not a jealous person, but he also wants to wipe the smile off of Matt’s face for being a contributing factor to Ashton not smiling at Luke. 

As the boss, he’s sure he could say something, but he doesn’t want to step on any toes that’ll paint him in a bad light. At least not where Ashton’s concerned. 

“Eggnog…” Calum trails off, and Luke looks up, confused, to see his eyebrows raised, surveying the office. “Interested?” There are a few nods, sparse throughout the room, and Calum excitedly scribbles on the clipboard in his hand. “It’s a small, less exciting, version of our Christmas party, but I’m bringing a pine-scented candle, so… get excited.” 

The meeting adjourns when Calum claps the back of his clipboard against his left palm and leaves the room. Slowly, Luke stands, stretching until his back  _ clicks _ , and waits a few moments. When he realizes how creepy he looks, lurking around the office in hopes that Ashton spares a glance his way, he flees to the comfort of his own office. He’s not even in there for a full two minutes when Michael barges into the room. 

“I thought we’d all gotten over last year and agreed not to bring it up,” he announces with his grand entrance, flinging the door shut behind him. He marches over to Luke’s desk and throws himself into the empty seat in front of it. “Can you write Calum up for betrayal?”

Opening his email browser, Luke rolls his eyes and makes the empty promise, “I’ll get right on that.”

“No, you won’t.” Michael doesn’t seem bothered by the lack of action, choosing instead to reach for the reindeer bobblehead sitting on the desk and shaking it in his palm. “I’m just excited for this year’s pull. Last year I got a gift card to Gamestop and a 10-pound chocolate bar, and  _ this  _ year I’m hoping for something more.”

“More?”

“Better…” Michael expands, licking his lips and quirking a brow as he continues, “sexier.”

Despite being his boss, Luke's glad he has Michael in his life. They’ve known each other for most of their lives, Luke meeting him in grade five when Michael threw himself in the chair next to Luke at lunch, refusing to let him sit alone. They’ve been attached at the hip every day since then, and Luke couldn’t be happier to have Michael as an assistant - he keeps things light and fun, even if he has a hard time being appropriate. 

“It’s an  _ office, _ ” he reminds his friend, _ “ _ so I hope you’re not getting something sexy.”

After thinking on it for a moment, staring into space as he does, Michael nods once decidedly. “You’re right. I’ll save that for when I’m alone with you.” Luke rolls his eyes. “So what are you thinking of buying?”

Every year, Luke likes to be a bit extra with his gift-giving. As the manager, his paycheck tends to be slightly higher than everybody else’s, and his holiday bonus is double. He works hard for it, but he knows that he owes his luck to the people busting their balls in the bullpen. He never thinks about what to get beforehand, always wanting his gifts to be custom and perfect. 

“Depends who I pull,” he says.

“ _ Riiiight _ .” There’s a smarm to his voice, a cocky edge to his posture, and Luke had no clue why, but he doesn’t like it one bit. “If you pulled  _ me _ for instance, I’d get a promotion, and if it were Kevin, he’d get, say, a new tie.” 

“Sure…” 

“And if you got, oh I don’t know, Ashton…” As he trails off, he makes a kissy face, lips pursed, and eyes tightly closed. 

“He’s the last person I want.” It’s entirely unconvincing, and Michael only laughs. 

“The universe works in mysterious ways, Lukey.”

“Mr. Hemmings,” he corrects. 

“You're not a ‘Mr. Hemmings’. I can't call you that knowing what you looked like in grade 9.” And with that final insult, Michael sweeps his way out of the office, taking with him Luke’s sense of stability and the reindeer bobblehead. 

🎅🎅🎅

The day of the pull comes around quickly and without much struggle. Calum spends the entire morning setting up the conference room, not letting anybody come in to see, and Luke’s been trying to make his rounds, to keep everybody’s excitement at an elevated level. It helps to have the receptionist desk set up with cups of eggnog and the cookie tray Calum picked up from Kroger on his way to work. 

For the past few minutes, Luke’s been standing alone, doing his best to indulge in the cookie tray, not trusting Calum’s taste in sweets. He’s leaning against one of the cubicles talking with Tessa, one of the branch's newest accountants, transferring in from the Novi branch, as she drinks her eggnog, a cookie placed on the napkin in front of her. 

“And you?” Tessa asks after she’s finished her winding answer to Luke’s throwaway greeting. “How are you liking the party so far?” 

“Not quite a party,” he says. 

Tessa laughs, shaking her head and placing her drink onto her desk “ _ Well _ , compared to my old branch, this is definitely a party.” It’s true that the Farmington branch is the talk of the company each year for their celebrations. Ever since Calum got promoted to their administrator three years back, there’s been a strong aspect of ‘family’ in everything they do. The enthusiasm it’s all met with has become almost double since the branches merged. “Our party budget just gets turned into gift cards.”

“That's not so bad, yeah?” Luke can’t lie and say he doesn’t love having strong team-morale, but he also can’t deny that it’d be a lot easier if he didn’t have to customize a perfect gift for one of his associates every year. 

“Not when you're used to it, no,” Tessa agrees. “But after coming here, you start to realize the friendships and fun can’t be replaced with a ten dollar Starbucks card.” 

She makes a fair point, and Luke's certain he has something intelligent to say in response, but everything that might’ve come out of his mouth is dehydrated and shriveled, doomed to never see the light of day, when Ashton comes out of the back office with a cookie in his hand and a curiosity in his eyes. Luke can’t help but stare, transfixed by the vision he makes, pretty and full of wonder. 

It doesn’t take long for Ashton to notice his dumb-faced stare, but instead of being put off by it, Ashton only smiles. There are cookie crumbs at the corner of his mouth, and Luke thinks he sinks a little deeper in love. 

“Mr. Hemmings?” 

Shaking his head, Luke looks over to see Tessa waiting for a response. “Sorry.” He lets himself laugh. “Was lost in my thoughts.”

Tessa grins, but it’s not as bright as earlier. “I’m sure.” 

The door to the conference room swings open, and Calum comes out giggling. Quick to follow him is Michael, looking equally as joyful as Calum calls everybody into the room for the pulling. It’s always a lot of sudden movements, gasps and  _ oohs _ , and people pulling the tiny sliver of paper into their chest as if somebody could even read Calum’s tiny handwriting from their seats. 

Until it comes to Luke, everybody has a positive response, but when he pulls the tiny paper from the jar, only to reveal the name ‘ _ Ashton Irwin _ ’ he can’t help but curse, full of anxiety and disappointment at the universe. 

His reaction sparks curiosity from the bunch, so he saves the day, rushing to explain, “I have too many ideas for a gift, and I don't know which way to go.” 

It works, everybody laughing along, but Luke doesn’t care for the smirk he sees on Michael’s face.

🎅🎅🎅

“Luke!” As usual. Michael storms into Luke’s office without even faking a knock, throwing the door open and falling into the chair across from Luke. “Mrs. Berlint needs you to call her back about your Thursday meeting, and - ” When Michael looks up and catches the glare sitting heavily on Luke’s face, he chuckles. “Uh-oh, somebody's sour.”

“You cheated.”

“I frequently do,” he confesses with a shrug, leaning back in the chair and kicking his feet up on the desk. “What game are we talking about?”

With a heavy hand, Luke swipes Michael’s dirty shoes away from his work, feeling satisfied when they audibly  _ thump _ onto the carpeted floor. “Not at a game, at the Secret Santa pull. You rigged it!”

“Oh, you mean fate?” With Michael, there’s always a level of smugness in everything he does. It’s oftentimes a point of entertainment for Luke, but every once in a while it does nothing but frustrate him. “You mean how divine intervention came in and made you pull Ashton?”

Feeling like he’s got Michael cornered, he grins and points accusingly across the table, “How’d you know I pulled Ashton if you didn't rig it?” But Michael seems completely unfazed, demeanor perfectly composed as he stares straight-faced back at him. 

“Because if you pulled Calum, I wouldn’t be feeling this anger from you.” There’s a moment, a lull, where Luke keeps his eyes narrowed and mouth in a predatory grin, but then Michael’s sighing and leaning forward. “Listen, Lukey. This is a good thing, double swearsies,” he promises and taps the table once before standing up. Luke wants to call him out on his bullshit, but he has no proof to pin anything on him. As Michael turns to leave the room, he mumbles, “You’re lucky to have me.” Luke hears it loud and clear. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” Michael waves him off. “Just focus on what you’re going to get for him.” 

And fuck, Luke hadn’t even  _ begun _ to think of that. 

🎅🎅🎅

It’s a few days later, as Luke’s heating up his leftover chicken casserole, that Calum comes to talk to him in the breakroom. 

“Luke, can I talk to you for a second?” he asks. His voice is shaking only slightly, but the rest of his approach is nothing out of the ordinary. Luke’s leaning on the counter with a spoon in his mouth, so he nods. Calum nods back, swinging his arms in front of him and wincing as his hands clap together. “What’s up?” 

Luke looks to the microwave, where his food is cooking, then to the sign above the door that says ‘ _ Lunch _ ’ in cursive. He looks back to Calum with eyebrows raised and answers, “Lunch.”

“Of course, right…” Calum twitches slightly, his head tilting towards his shoulder. “So listen, Luke. I'm filling out a company profile - nothing suspicious. What’s your favorite color?” 

Any other day, Luke likes to think he’d have it in him to figure out what has Calum so on edge - why he’s so jumpy and asking such oddly timed questions about things that’ve never come to his mind to be asked before. He  _ likes _ to think he’d have it in him, but he definitely doesn’t - especially  _ not _ when the door opens, taking his focus away from Calum and drawing it to where Ashton’s walking into the room, laughing with his deskmate, Matt, and suddenly Luke doesn’t have an attention span at all, barely able to answer the question with a slurred, “Blue.” 

“Cool.” Calum nods, writing Luke’s answer down on the back of his left hand, careless to where Luke’s mind has gone. “And your favorite Christmas movie?” 

It takes at least ten seconds for the question to register, and when it does, Luke answers an automatic, “Frosty the Snowman,” only able to do so from years of answering the question from other people. 

“Good choice, excellent choice.” Calum writes the answer down again, moving forward. “And your - ”

Ashton walks past them, and Luke completely tunes out whatever’s being said, too busy watching Ashton make his way out of the office through the back door. 

Not realizing that it might be considered rude to abandon a conversation halfway through, Luke walks away, leaving his food in the microwave and his office administrator rambling off inquisitions to an empty countertop. He makes his way to the customer service cubicles and finds Ashton’s by the name printed on his nameplate. 

Searching high and low, Luke tries to find anything he can to give him an insight into who Ashton is as a person. There’s a few receipts from restaurants and pictures of him in different brands of clothing that could  _ maybe _ be a lead into a nice Christmas present, but truthfully none of it instills much confidence into Luke. In fact, the only thing of note that Luke comes across is a complaint that Michael called a customer rude and hung up on her three days ago. 

Just as he’s about to give up hope and head back to eat his forgotten meal, Luke notices that Ashton’s computer doesn’t have a password on it, and that his Spotify Wrapped playlist for the year is up on the screen. It doesn’t take much longer than three seconds for him to deduce that Ashton’s favorite band is the Talking Heads. 

With a grin, Luke makes his way back to the lunchroom. He can definitely work with this. 

🎅🎅🎅

Walking into the office Monday morning, Luke feels like a king, strutting up to his desk with all the confidence in the world. He went out Saturday and bought Ashton’s gift, and since then he’s been riding the high. 

There’s two weeks left until the party, and everybody can let themselves stress and worry over what to get each other. From here on it, it’s smooth sailing, comfort in the knowledge that Ashton’s going to love his gift. And then maybe, hopefully, Ashton will have an open route to talk to Luke more. He’ll be able to see just how astute and perceptive he is. And maybe, just maybe, Luke’s five-year plan can officially hit stage two: getting to know each other. 

“Camden Rodas has been blowing your phone up all morning,” Michael interrupts, sounding irritated despite the fact that it’s only eight in the morning and the day hasn’t really even begun yet. The door slams behind him, but he doesn’t so much as jump, only continues in a bored tone, “He  _ really  _ wants this sample update.” 

“And they're on the way in,” Luke answers, waving him off nonchalantly. Usually a complaining customer would spark a sense of urgency in Luke, getting him running to begin his day. Only now, after hitting such a Santa High, nothing seems that pressing. “The system doesn't let us expedite shipping, so even if I cared about this as much as Rodas, I still wouldn't be able to do anything.” 

At first, Michael looks cautiously at Luke, but then, most likely after realizing he’ll figure out the motivation behind his casual attitude eventually, he shrugs and keeps flipping through his notecards. “You also have a free afternoon tomorrow, XPress Global rescheduled for next week.” 

“Awesome.” 

It’s clear that business isn’t on the agenda between them this morning, so Luke rushes to share his good news just as Michael opens his mouth, leading them both to say, at the same time, “I found the perfect gift!” 

“No,” Michael groans, stomping his foot petulantly. “That's not fair, you stole my thunder.” 

“Too bad,” Luke grins, “It’s what you get.” Michael pouts, but Luke can’t feel sorry for him, the victory he feels is far too distracting. “I got him an original vinyl of his favorite band.” 

“Well, I got Nia in HR a foot spa, so suck my dick,” he tries to brag. Luke feels anything but overshadowed, letting his mouth open wider in a toothy grin as he reaches his hand out for a high five. 

It’s not immediate, but after an appropriate amount of time passes, Michael sighs before meeting his hand, defeated. 

Everything’s coming up roses. 

🎅🎅🎅

Four days later in the breakroom, as Luke’s shaking a package of Sweet N Low, slapping it on his palm, before tearing it open and pouring it in his coffee, he’s interrupted by throat-clearing before a voice asks, “Sweet N Low?” Luke jumps at the question, turning quickly to see Ashton leaning against the fridge next to him, an easy smile on his face. “Why not sugar, Mr. Manager?” 

“Um…” Luke looks down, the package he was opening spills everywhere. It makes a small mess that’s easy enough to clean, but as he swipes the granulates into his cupped palm, red climbs up his neck. He’s flustered as time ticks by slowly. “It’s, uh, it's smoother.” 

“It makes it smooth?” Ashton laughs, and with anybody else, Luke thinks he might be a bit offended at it, but with Ashton, he can hear the pleasantness in his voice. “I haven't heard that one before..” 

Luke shrugs, feeling unsure in his skin, a little shaky having Ashton so close. “I've always just liked it more.” 

“I don't typically use sweetener, but if I did, I'm sure I'd agree with you.” Ashton’s attention is overwhelming, and Luke’s nod is a bit sporadic. Ashton only chuckles, reaching for the pot, his arm grazing Luke’s as he goes, and begins pouring himself a cup. “Are you excited for Secret Santa, then? I heard last year this branch was the talk of the company.” 

This is easy. If it’s about work, Luke’s good at putting on a mask and letting himself be the boss. He relaxes slightly, as he answers, “Yeah, we're a close bunch. We go all out for each other.” 

“You're all definitely closer here than any other company I've worked for before. That's for sure.” The sincerity is audible in his voice. Luke opens his mouth to respond, but Ashton continues, “I know I'll love whatever I get, but I'm hoping the familial aspect of the office comes through.” 

The words stop Luke for a moment, confusion painting his expression. “What do you mean?”

“Just that sometimes money holds a higher place in these situations and the gifts given are just a materialistic show of cash.” His statement hits Luke straight in the stomach because of  _ fuck _ . A vinyl record isn’t cheap to begin with, but an  _ original _ of The Talking Heads? He’s going to look like a dick if he gives that as his present. “I prefer handmade heartfelt things.  _ That's  _ what the holiday is about.” 

So as to not look suspicious, Luke nods, but it feels hollow. He's going to need something new, something better, and something from the heart. 

🎅🎅🎅

After trying his hand at painting and sculpting, Luke's Saturday consists of him following a tutorial on knitting. His first attempts at crafting something end in an unraveling of yarn, but after hours of focus and determination, a scarf comes out of his hard work. 

It’s not exactly the best-looking thing, but it’s made with love woven throughout the poor stitching. The green will bring out the soft tones in Ashtons pretty hazel eyes, and the yarn is delicate and heavy to keep warm all winter. Luke wraps it up and starts to feel good about himself and the gift.

He thinks he may have done it. 

🎅🎅🎅

Next Friday comes around, and there are gifts piled high under the tree. Amongst them sits a small box wrapped in silver paper with a red and green bow tied around the edges, holding the worst idea Lukes ever had, He’s bitten his fingernails down to nubs in his worry, and he thinks he may pass out upon the first glimpse of that puke-green scarf and Ashton’s practically guaranteed expression of horror. 

The party is a success, it seems if any of his associates' smiles are to be trusted. The games go fine, despite Michael’s constant teasing, not realizing the panic Luke’s undergoing as they inch closer and closer to the gift reveal. 

Just as Calum’s preparing to begin passing out the presents, Ashton makes his way over to where Luke’s cowering near the door, ready to make his escape if the necessity arises. Ashton shakes his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly, and Luke’s heart stops in his chest. “I hardly think you're dressed in-theme, Mr. Manager.” 

Luke looks down, not expecting the conversation to pull in that direction. His surprise makes his brain pause, and it takes a moment for him to realize what’s just been said and to respond properly. “What are you talking about? It's ugly sweater day.” 

“Nothing’s ugly when it's on you,” Ashton teases, a crooked grin on his pretty lips. Luke’s face bleeds red. “This is just you showing off how good you can look in anything.”

There’s a response on the tip of his tongue, probably something flustered and broken, but then Calum’s voice bounces authoritatively through the room. “Alright, Nia, you're up first!” 

They go through the motions, handing out present after present, everybody admitting their Santa status for every gift. It’s fun, and Luke’s sure any other year he’d be having the time of his life, but waiting for the moment of truth has him sweating where he stands. 

The fear of what’s about to come has Luke zoning out, letting his mind wander to worst-case scenarios, and he doesn’t come back to the present moment until he hears a gasp. 

“Oh…  _ wow _ .” It’s Ashton. Luke looks up to see him holding the scarf in his hand, looking tattered and too green. It’s hideous, even worse than Luke remembered. He looks up and sees Michael looking utterly disgusted, not even a trace of a laugh on his face like there typically would be, and he wants to melt into a puddle and drip under the crack in the door. “This is handmade,” Ashton says, but it’s  _ not _ a compliment - Luke can hear it loud and clear. “Who, uh… who do I thank?” There’s no getting out of it, he knows, so he raises his hand, watching as something changes in Ashton’s expression. “Thank you. Mr. Hemmings. I absolutely adore it.”

He puts it on, and across the room, Michael audibly laughs, causing Luke and Ashton to glare at him. Luke feels humiliation dripping through his veins at how sloppy, ugly, and misfitting the scarf looks on Ashton’s neck. 

Later, as Luke unwraps his own gift only to reveal a blanket, a pair of snowman pajamas, and a DVD copy of Frosty the Snowman from Calum, the embarrassment only sinks in deeper. Luke received a truly personal gift that fills him with memories of his youth and a feeling of comfort. Meanwhile, Ashton’s wearing the ugliest scarf in the entire goddamn world. 

He’s sick. 

🎅🎅🎅

Monday comes around after a long weekend, and Luke’s feeling better about things. He slept in his pajamas and watched the movie and let his mind wander away from all of his guilt and nausea of the gifting mishap. He comes into work with a better spirit, ready to move past the horrifying events of their holiday party and get back to business. 

That is, at least, until Ashton Irwin walks into the building with the object of Luke’s contempt wrapped around his neck like a noose. He adjusts the scarf and smiles at Luke, and Luke fakes one back before hurriedly shutting the door to his workspace, needing to be alone all over again. 

It takes a little bit for Luke’s hands to stop shaking and his mind to stop berating him for long enough to settle in, but as soon as they do, there’s a knock on the door, and Ashton’s peeking around the corner. “Can I come in?” Luke nods, switching his computer screen to show his HR files, figuring Ashton’s here to complain about the scarf, and Luke will have to send it off to Human Resources. “You’re not too busy, are you?” 

“Not at all.” Luke leans back, ready for the grievances to begin. “I was just going over our sales for the month.”

“We must be doing well if the lack of complaints means anything.” 

Luke nods, alright with talking business if it means stalling from hearing Ashton talk down on the scarf of death he’s forcing Luke to face. “Christmas is always the best time. Everybody's remodeling for when their families visit.” The projected sales sheet on the desk in front of him is blinding. “January will be  _ slow _ .” 

“That’s not such a bad thing. It'll be good for you to rest your brain.” Ashton lets his fingers dance across the top of Luke’s bookcase before he makes his way over to the desk, slowly lowering himself into a chair. “Did you ever have any fun traditions?” 

It’s like whiplash, the way Luke expected the conversation to go, only to be met with quick turns that have nothing to do with his original thought. He doesn’t say anything at first, mouth dry with the struggle of trying to talk to the love of his life. “Uh, yeah,” he nods. “I always used to love skating.”

“We should go!” Ashton shouts. Luke jumps slightly, his eyes widening at the surprise of the shout and the idea of maybe, possibly, going out with Ashton on a date. There’s an anticipation and excitement as he prepares to respond until Ashton continues, “All of us. Like a field trip for the office.”

And the humiliation sinks in again. 

🎅🎅🎅

Luke feels like dying every time Ashton grins at him whilst wearing that stupid, ugly, poorly crafted scarf. 

They’re all at a skating rink across town, and Ashton’s been decorated in the thinning garland of a scarf the entire day. It’s like Luke’s staring at all of the mistakes he’s ever made, tortured in the face of his regrets. He’s taken to keeping off the ice, instead eating a slice of pizza and glaring at the green monstrosity floating around the rink. 

The scarf makes its way closer and closer until Ashton’s skidding his skates to a stop, the sound scraping against the ice until he’s directly in front of Luke, only a thin barrier between them. “Enjoying yourself, Mr. Manager?” 

And Luke wants to say something smart back, to have a normal response, and maybe they could have a bit of back-and-forth, but the scarf is all Luke’s been able to think about, plagued with the thought that he’s ruined Ashton’s life with this hideous item, and he ends up, without even the slightest hint of a filter, shouting, “Your scarf is ugly!” It comes out like the accident it is, hurried and shameful, and Ashton jumps. He looks behind him, at their coworkers skating carelessly, then back to Luke. He drops his gaze down to the fabric strangling him, and then back up at Luke. He smiles softly.

“You made it for me.” 

“God, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, feeling disgusted and full of remorse. He’s absolutely despicable. “It’s so stupid, you deserve so much better, but I - ”

“Luke,” Ashton cuts him off, his laugh full of amusement and not the anger Luke was anticipating. “I love the scarf. Why are you - ”

“You don’t have to  _ lie  _ to me,” Luke groans. “It’s ugly. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever gotten.”

Ashton’s quiet for a moment, and Luke wants to curl up in a ball until the sub-temperatures of the rink freeze him in his sphere of regret. He shouldn’t have gotten the gift - hell, he should’ve quit his job the moment he pulled Ashton’s name in the draw. 

“Have you given any thought as to  _ why _ I keep wearing it if it’s  _ so _ ugly?” Ashton asks after letting his silence go on for a beat too long. 

Luke sighs at the way Ashton’s playing off the atrocity. “Don’t act like it’s an exaggeration. You know it’s ugly.” 

“I like you, Luke.” It’s spoken plainly, stated like a fact. Luke was about to go on about how Ashton pretending to like it only makes him feel stupid, but then the confession catches up and he’s stunned silent. “I don’t care if you think it’s ugly. I’m going to keep wearing it because  _ you _ gave it to me, and I like you a lot.” 

“I like you too,” Luke replies, not caring if this is all a joke, a revenge prank on Luke for his sins against fashion. The surprise too much and too  _ needed _ for him to play it off and pretend he doesn’t have mushy, lovey feelings for this man. 

Ashton grins, his hand coming up and playing with the frayed yarn.”I thought you might.” They smile at each other, letting their moment sit happily if only for a second. “I like you, Luke. Even if you do have horrible taste in gifts.” It should be enough, the validation Luke needs, but he feels like he needs to prove himself, to prove that he’s so much better than this, his weakest point. 

“I bought you a better gift!” he shouts. “I got you an original Talking Heads vinyl, but then you said you’d like something from the heart, and I just - ”

“It sounds amazing,” Ashton cuts him off with a giggle, “but I’m so happy with what I got because it’s from you.” It’s better than any vinyl or DVD could ever make feel, and he can’t help but blush at the sincerity. “C’mon, Mr. Manager. Let’s go skating.” He extends his hand to grab Luke’s free one and pulls him onto the ice. 

Suddenly the scarf doesn’t represent Luke’s mistakes, but rather the opportunities he’s yet to find.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments are always appreciated
> 
> [Here's a shareable post!](https://fourdrunksluts.tumblr.com/post/634447308882395136/5-seconds-of-ficmas-by-reversecow-and)


End file.
